The appointment at the dressmakers turned out to be fitting for Micara's wedding gown. Madame Freeman had ordered no less than a dozen bolts of fabric for Micara to choose from and the first three, a selection from Quebec, had finally arrived. The others, imports from England and France, would take several more weeks. But until they arrived, there was still much to do in preparation. A pattern had been made and a sample put together of basted muslin. And of course Madame Freeman had arranged for an entire bridal trousseau, everything from undergarments to winter cloaks.
Maggie watched in amazement as bolt after bolt were laid out for Micara.
Intending only to look, Maggie perused the shop's collection of fashion plates. She was shocked to see a depiction of a woman in a large straw hat and powdered curls sketched wearing what appeared to be nothing more than a layered chemise with a sash tied at her waist.
Madame Freeman wandered near and upon seeing Maggie's expression, let out an amused murmur. "What do you think of the chemise a la Reine?"
Maggie' shock showed clearly and Madame chuckled. She lowered her voice to a level appropriate for a good intrigue and said, "Quite the scandal. This is the Queen of France."
Maggie's jaw nearly dropped.
Madame Freeman's eyes twinkled. "It will not hep her popularity, but I think we will be seeing ore of this style soon. I may not be daring enough to wear such a frock, but I do think it would feel quite pleasant in the heat of the summer months."
Maggie shook her head in bewilderment. The notion of prancing about in one's undergarments astounded her. Especially a queen. But, if a the queen of such a fashionable country as France had given her seal of approval to the garment, surely it could not be such an unthinkable outfit. She gave the image one last look, now that her shock had dissipated. She supposed the many white layers and airy sleeves were not quite as immodest as she'd first thought. It was quite pretty, and did look a good deal cooler than most of her own summer dresses.
She might have said as much to Madame Freeman, but when she turned towards her, the older woman had her head cocked to the side, studying Maggie's borrowed gown. After a moment, she gestured to one of the seamstresses and began conversing with her in rapid French.
Nodding and gesticulating, the seamstress replied and the approached Maggie. "Choose," she said, indicating the fashion plates.
Quickly replacing the drawing on the table, Maggie glanced at Madame Freeman questioningly. The older woman came forward, picked a selection of plates for the seamstress, and then took Maggie's hand and led her to the display of fabric samples near the entrance of the shop.
Maggie's heart skipped a beat. Hope crashing through her, she gazed at the fabric and then back to Madame.
With a squeeze of her hand, the older woman smiled and said, "We must address your wardrobe if you are to attend this summer's functions as part of my household."
Maggie could not contain the joy that leapt to life inside her. She fairly flung herself at Madame. The action evoked an exuberant laugh. Madame Freeman patted her and disentangled them, instructing Maggie to pick three or four fabrics to begin with.
Maggie squealed once more. She then flitted over to Micara and they both fawned over patterns and textures until it was time to leave.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
On the other side of town, the sun beat down on Will's buckskin covered back as he walked through the streets of Trenton. He'd awoken with the dawn and had been wandering aimlessly since then. He was trying to understand what Maggie saw in this place. He had covered nearly all the streets in the heart of the rapidly growing city, paused to inspect several large buildings, and dodged the ever increasing bodies that rushed about. None of his observations had helped him understand.
With the exception of supply and trading trips, Will avoided cities. He had a few shops along his St. Lawrence route he made habits of stopping at, an apothecary in Montreal that his Mam did business with, and a blacksmith in Trois Rivieres when needed, but beyond that there was little he had seen and no desire to do so.
This morning however, with Maggie's face in his mind's eye, he was determined to comprehend the call of the city. He was not doing so well at that. The Two Crowns, where he had stayed, was on one of the newly cobbled streets lined with shops and businesses that seemed to spring up in groups with each new visit. An odd mix of well dressed men, hawkers, various rough clothed workers, and the occasional wealthy woman in a carriages thrummed past him as he ambled.
Down the next lane, two streets over, and entirely different population surged, mostly rough clothed workers on their way to farms outside the city. Modest women in homespun, most with children in tow occasionally passed, shoulders set, eyes on task.
Further still from the city centre were muddy lanes between ramshackle buildings, half of which hadn't been there the last time Will had visited. He clutched his money purse tightly at his hip beneath his jacket. He had been at the edge of these streets before, as they were close to the dock, but he had never wandered through them. The population of these alleys had exploded in the last years as more people had moved north to escape the war in the colonies and its aftermath. This was a last resort of many people. Women in tattered blouses lined several doorways, some desperate enough to call out lewd offers to man in the vicinity, some lugging buckets of water from the docks to fill vast kettles of strangers washing, and more with infants on their hips and hollow expressions. Twice Will had to dodge flying refuse as a chamber pot was emptied from a window. The cacophony of noises from scrambling children, stray dogs, and scurrying rats assaulted his ears.
When he could take no more, he fled to the docks. The fresh air and familiar sounds of trappers and traders welcomed him. His canoe beckoned temptingly. If only he could use it to make and escape. Both from Trenton and Calen's engagement party.
As if the thought had summoned him, Calen's voice landed on his ears. Calen was docking his own canoe, beckoning to him. Will sauntered down and Calen handed him several small packages and his bundle.
"Dinnae expect ta see ye here, lad," Calen said, a chuckle in his tone. "I thought ye'd be downing a cuppa in Mrs. Freeman's parlour 'bout now."
Will ignored the comment.
Calen tied his boat. It was loaded with traps, gear, and supplies needed for a summer in the woods. He would be leaving in the morning for his last trip before his wedding, his last trip ever if Micara had something to say about it. His homestead cabin was almost complete, but he needed one more haul to pay for he finishing touches. Glass windows, a brass door knob with a key, and an iron cook stove would adorn the spacious wood planked cabin and in turn make Micara the envy of all homestead brides.
Calen dug in his money belt for a coin for the dock-master. There was no official fee to tie up, but everyone knew the easiest way to keep a hold of your belongings was a few shillings in the dock-master's palm. He came up empty in the search and Will dug in his own belt. He flipped a con to his penniless friend.
Calen grinned. "Me last penny on me last day. I make a good pauper."
Will made no reply. He mulled over an idea silently. Calen left him to make his payment and when he returned, Will blurted, "I might be comin' wi' ye tomorrow."
"Might?" Calen asked. "I thought ye planned on startin' yer homestead."
"I did. I might still. But I might not."
"That's a great lot of might bein' bandied about."
Calen studied him hard for a moment, a furrow between his brows. Finally comprehension dawned. "And what changed your plans, as if I don't know."
Will didn't respond other than to begin walking towards Micara's Aunt's house. Calen fell into step beside him. "What did she say?"
"I didn't ask her."
Will didn't elaborate. It was an unspoken rule in their friendship that neither of them wold discuss his feelings for Maggie, as both parties involved were important to Calen, and neither men would jeopardize either relationship. Usually Will's feelings were obvious enough that the rule was unnecessary.
Calen took a moment to mentally navigate the boundary he was about to cross. He didn't know how to stay impartial to either person, his best friend and his baby sister.
"Why didn't ye?" He finally asked, stepping hesitantly into unexplored territory. To his surprise, the question seemed to be met with relief instead of hostility.
Will glanced at him, a sour expression on his face. After a defeated sigh, he said, "She asked me not to."
The hurt was evident in his voice and it made Calen's stomach clench in sympathy. He grimaced. His sister was self-centred at times, conniving and impish at others, and sometimes impulsive and thoughtless, but she was not callous, and never intentionally hurtful. She was very clear that her plans would not include the lifestyle she had been raised in, the very life Will would be offering. Though Calen thought her plans ridiculous, he knew she was set on them. He hurt for William, but he had no doubt that her request had been a way of protecting herself, and he understood it. Will didn't seem to.
A stone skittered as if fleeing from Will's forceful pace. Calen kept stride with him, trying to think of anything he might say in response that might bring some comfort.
"Lad," he began, "She dinnae mean to hurt ye."
Will let out a sharp breath. "Aye, and she did a fine job."
Calen grimaced again. Maybe distraction was a better approach with the sting of rejection still smarting. "Ye said ye might come along with me. What's the plan?"
Will strode along silently for moment, his expression changing rapidly with his thoughts. Finally he stopped in his tracks, snagging Calen's arm to halt him as well. The packages in Calen's arms jolted from the abruptness. Will's eyes skittered wildly as he grappled for words. Not finding them, he gave a defeated sigh and shook his head.
"I dinnae know. I want to ask her. I want to demand an answer, a yes or a no. I want to know for once what she feels for me. I want to marry her if she says yes. And if she says no, I want to leave her behind, go far away, and stay there until I forget that I loved her at all."
His tone had grown more forceful with each sentence and now the pent up frustration came off him in hot waves of anger. Calen didn't quite know what to say. Cheerful, good-natured Will never needed calmed down. He was the one that did the calming. He did the cheering. He cracked jokes when their muscles ached from paddling. He whistled while he patched up holes in canoes that set them two days off their schedule. He sang their paddle rhythm songs when the rain soaked their supplies and threatened to drown them. This was another territory unknown.
Calen ventured an unconvinced question. "So... ye wish to hurt her in return?"
Will deflated. As quick as the anger had come over him, it was gone, leaving a solemness in its place. "No," he said quietly, "I couldn't do that to her."
He paused a moment, peering unseeing at a point in the distance. "I love her. I want her to be happy. Even if it's not with me."
A devout respect for Will flared in Calen. Maggie had a way of getting under the skin like no one he had ever met. Even he had been guilty of allowing her barbs to prompt him into petty acts of retribution. Will, having had the most provocation of all to do so, never had, in all the time they had known him. Even now, in so much pain, he protected her.
Silently, Calen cursed Maggie's blindness. "She does love ye, ye know," he offered aloud instead. "Ye'r her best friend."
Will gave a deep sigh. "I know."
There was not much else to say in such a situation, and so they began walking again.
~~~~~~~~
The ladies were finishing luncheon when the man arrived at the Freeman estate. Micara sprang from her seat at the knock of the door. Her napkin made it half way through the room on her lap before fluttering to the ground in her wake.
Madame Freeman raised her eyebrows to Maggie in amusement.
Micara rushed as gracefully as possible down the hall brushing past Anna to open the door herself. She ignored the maid's dissatisfied sound.
Will had nonchalantly taken the packages from Calen's arms and pretended to be fascinated by the stonework of the building when Micara threw her arms around Calen's neck. Anna, a step behind her, ignored them politely also. She took the packages from him and they exchanged the proper pleasantries.
After a moment, Micara stepped back, blushing. She greeted Will with a much more reserved embrace.
"Greetings are gettin' friendlier and friendlier," he teased.
Micara turned a deeper shade of pink at his comment and Calen laughed outright.
From the hall, Maggie had seen all this. She came forward hesitantly, watching Will. He noticed her and he nodded politely before looking away. Her heart clenched. She had not truly expected him to forgive her so quickly, but the slight still stung. Nothing in her world would feel completely right while she was at odds with him.
He gave her no opportunity to approach him, staying well back as she greeted Calen and slipping past her to offer an arm to escort Madame Freeman when she invited them to the parlour to rest from their journey.
They didn't rest long before Madame Freeman had orders for baths drawn for the travellers and coaxed the girls off to begin primping for the celebration that evening. Micara had monopolized the conversation in her desperation to catch up with Calen as well as her excitement for the coming party. Her engagement ring, Madame Freeman's gift to Calen, seemed to glitter and sparkle more enthusiastically than usual with her animated hand gestures.
Will again evaded Maggie on his way to his room. She would have gone after him, but Micara, oblivious to her plan, latched onto her arm and practically dragged her in the opposite direction in her eagerness to dress for the party.
Micara prattled on about the party and Calen without pause. Her elation was infectious and soon Maggie found herself giggling with anticipation alongside her. Surprisingly, she was the only one she felt was ill prepared for this night. Micara was in her element; Calen had been dragged to upper class functions during his previous unfortunate engagement and knew what to expect; and Will was both likeable and notoriously adaptable to nearly any social event once he got his bearings. Though she would never admit it, it did bother Maggie that she, the one who wanted this life more than anyone, would most likely be the one to make a misstep.
She had little time to fret about it, for soon Madame Freeman was requesting their presence for a final inspection of the room and refreshments before the guests arrived. Maggie was being honoured with a place in the greeting line reserved for family of the host as both sister to the groom to be and part of Madame Freeman's household for the next coming months. The older woman had told her with a twinkle in her eye that not only was it a fitting way to show her respect to the family Micara would be joining, but it was also the best way to ensure Maggie would make personal introductions with any person of notability in attendance.
Maggie was excited by that prospect, especially considering Madame's teasing tone had indicated the notable personages to be young bachelors, but even more so she was grateful that tonight Madame would be laying claim to her in full view of her socialite friends and acquaintances. That alone would do more for Maggie's future than any number of new introductions
Calen met them at the base of the stairs and Madame Freeman shepherded them into line at the front door, placing Micara and Calen at front, for it was their engagement party. Maggie brought up the rear. Madame Freeman explained to her once more the steps for introductions. Though the line up made things fairly fool proof, Maggie was grateful for the review.
Madame Freeman's timing was impeccable. She had not been finished her speech more than a moment when the heavy metal door knock signalled the first arrival. Anna opened the door for the evening, revealing an elderly couple both wrapped up against the surprise summer rainfall outside. They entered with all the dignity of royalty and offered a cool felicitation to the couple of honour. Madame Freeman welcomed them with practised ease, forgoing an introduction to Maggie in favour of offering personally to take the woman's wrap while Anna took the gentleman's.
As the couple wandered off, perfectly at ease in doing so in a home not their own, Maggie heard Madame Freeman tell Anna, "Keep these close at hand. They will be gone again before the final guests arrive."
This served only to confuse Maggie considerably more. The older couple had arrived unfashionably early, leaving several minutes to fill before the sound of carriage wheels once again rang on the cobbles, and would not even be staying for the announcement which was the entire focus of the gathering.
With one slightly exasperated whisper, Madame Freeman cleared it up. "In-laws."
Maggie suppressed a surprised laugh. She had prepared for anything that might happen tonight. Or so she thought. Unexpectedly meeting the in-laws of a woman nearing her sixties who had been widowed four times was not something one could prepare for.
She managed to school her features before the next guests arrived and couldn't give the amusing revelation any more thought as the newly formed line of guests filed sedately through the door. They were staggered only by a few paces, which meant Maggie was receiving multiple introductions each minute. With a smile and a partial curtsy for each guest, Maggie soon felt about as stable as a cork bobbing in a rough current.
One after another, people filed past her to where Anna was waiting to take their outerwear. A particularly hasty gentleman flung off his hat while greeting Maggie, spattering her arm and glove with murky water droplets from its rim. He did not bother to apologize, or else had not even noticed.
"Allow me," said a polished voice.
The next guest in line, a smartly dressed man with dark hair pulled into a smooth queue, had already removed his pressed pocket square and was waiting with his arm outstretched to take her hand. Maggie's palm found its way into his without much thought and he dabbed at the water stains on her glove gently. His thumb grazed her skin above as he wiped the droplets there. She nearly forgot how to breathe. The few drops were taken care of quickly and as he put the soiled linen away, met her gaze with his own, still grasping her hand. Pale blue eyes transfixed her.
"Camden Ward," he said, bowing over her hand.
It took Maggie a moment to recover before she introduced herself as well.
Camden offered a smile. "The pleasure is certainly all mine."
She couldn't keep herself from staring after him when he moved on. She would have continued to do so for quite some time had Madame Freeman not discreetly nudged her for the next introduction. Maggie eventually gave up hoping to remember all the names that she learned. She had done well for the first couple dozen, but after that, the faces were only distinguishable as male or female, any originality vanishing into a blur.
True to her word, the elderly couple who had arrived first made their way back to the front while people were still filing in. In silent understanding, the doorstep cleared for them to leave, several people nodding respectfully to them as they passed.
The musicians had begun their retinue of compositions by the time the last couple had arrived. Madame Freeman took a steadying breath and pasted on her charming hostess smile. She led the way into the ball room. She deposited Maggie in a prominent area of the room and then selected a middle aged man near the doorway as her partner for the first dance. They took the floor with Calen and Micara behind them. Many couple were already paired up and conversing, waiting for the hostess and guests of honour to open the dancing.
As she watched, Maggie was both surprised and impressed by Calen's skill. He had improved greatly since the last gala. Of course since then he had been drilled in the art by both Micara and her aunt in preparation for tonight. He had had no choice but to improve.
When they had taken one full turn around the room, a voice cleared behind Maggie and she turned with a start. Will held his arm out stiffly to her. Madame Freeman had instructed them to take the floor as a signal to the rest of the guests once they had completed their first circuit. Maggie had quite forgotten this with the bustle around her. A beaming smile lit her face. He led her onto the floor. There was a pause while they waited for the proper rhythm and then Will spun them into step with the other two couples.
Other couples joined in and soon the floor was full. Will didn't attempt conversation while they navigated the dance. He hardly looked at her. All too soon it was over. He escorted her back to where he'd found her and deposited her there with a quick bow before turning on his heel.
She hardly had a moment to process his abandonment before she was approached again for the next dance. She caught sight of the back of Will's head of auburn hair before losing him to the movements on the floor.
Since she had been formally introduced as part of Madame Freeman's household to everyone at the party, she was a popular choice for partner. She had not one moment to herself for the entire first half of the dancing. Not that she minded. Only the faint nagging thought that she needed to seek out Will kept her from fully enjoying the experience of being so sought after.
When Madame Freeman instituted a pause in the music in preparation for the engagement announcement. Maggie finally got a chance to catch her breath. That is until Madame Freeman sought her out for a mission. Calen and Micara had slipped off during the second quadrille and had not returned to the ballroom. Maggie was sent off with instructions to find and remind them that just because they were engaged now, it was still not proper for them to be slipping off to balconies during a celebration in their honour and to remedy the fact quickly.
Grateful to leave the sweltering ballroom for a moment, Maggie did just that. The couple had not gone far and were still fully in view of chaperones for proprieties sake but she sent them the message just the same. With a rueful glare, Calen proffered his arm to his fiancee. He looked more like a man sentenced to the gallows than one about to be toasted to.
Maggie would have followed them, but movement near the front door caught her attention. Will was there, no longer dressed in his borrowed finery, but his fringed buckskin coat. Maggie frowned. His back was too her, but she could see his hand on the doorknob. Was he going to leave without saying anything? Not even good bye? She went forward quickly.
"Will."
Her voice startled him and he turned.
"Where are you going?" She asked, her eyebrows crinkling in confusion. "They haven't even done the engagement toast yet."
Will refused to meet her eyes. She was silent for a long moment, hoping he would speak. Finally she said softly, "Will, I am sorry about that day on the docks, I..."
"Maggie, stop," he cut her off. He looked like he was going to say more, but when he didn't, she asked again.
"Where are you going?"
"Home."
A sickening feeling sank into Maggie's stomach. They couldn't patch things up if he wasn't around. She knew he would eventually have to leave her in the city, but she hadn't anticipated it being so soon. "What about Calen and Micara?"
"They will nae miss me."
"I will," she said softly. She placed her hand on his forearm. "I know what I said, but please stay at least until after the party."
Will exhaled sharply. "Mags, I cannae stay. I can't be here looking at them, seeing how happy they are, seeing you dance then night away without a care. I can't be here. Not when I feel this miserable."
He brushed her hand off and she swallowed loudly, very close to tears. "Will."
He looked away, blinking rapidly. She saw his throat work once and then twice.
"I Love you," he finally said, his voice rough. "I wish ye every happiness. I wish I could have been part of it. But I can't be here any more. I can't be waitin' on you any more and hopin' one day ye'll change yer mind."
He finally looked at her again. Absentmindedly he raised his hand as if to caress her cheek before realizing and stopping it in mid air. Instead he made a fist and dropped it back to his side.
A sob slipped out of her as he reached for the door. It made him pause but only for a moment.
"Good bye, Maggie."
With that, he slipped out the door. Leaving her once again.